Rainy Day Canvas

The sharp scent of wet pavement and fresh espresso hit me the moment I stepped into the tiny corner café. Rain hammered the windows like it wanted in, and there she was—Lila, my wife of three years—already perched at the corner table with her sketchpad open. Her dark eyes flicked up to meet mine, and the heat in that single glance made my cock twitch against my jeans. God, she looked edible in that thin white blouse now half-transparent from the drizzle, nipples tight and visible.

I slid into the chair opposite her, water dripping from my hair.

"Hey, stranger," she said, voice low and teasing, lips curving. "Took you long enough. I was starting to think you'd leave me here all wet and needy."

"Needy, huh?" I leaned in, smelling her perfume mixed with rain. "You picked the model gig yourself. You sure about this?"

Lila's cheeks flushed but her gaze didn't waver. She reached under the table and squeezed my thigh, fingers brushing the growing bulge.

"Positive. The rain's keeping everyone else away. It's just us... and that empty back booth no one can see into. I want you to fuck your wife right here while I pretend to sketch you. Make it dirty, baby."

My pulse spiked. The café was nearly deserted—just the barista humming behind the counter and the steady drum of rain masking everything. Lila stood first, hips swaying as she led me to the shadowed booth at the rear. She slid in first, back to the wall, and I followed, heart hammering.

The moment we were hidden she tugged me close, mouth crashing into mine. Her tongue slid hot and eager between my lips while her hand worked my zipper down.

"Mmm, already so hard for me," she whispered against my mouth. "Pull it out. I need that thick cock inside your wife's pussy right now."

I freed my dick, heavy and throbbing, the head already slick. Lila hiked her short skirt up with one hand, no panties underneath—just her smooth, shaved pussy glistening. She spread her thighs wide under the table, one leg hooking over mine.

"Fuck, Lila... you're soaked."

"All your fault. Been thinking about this since I texted you." She grabbed my shaft, stroking me roughly, thumb circling the sensitive head. "Don't be gentle. Slide it in deep. Fill me up."

I thrust forward. Her tight heat swallowed every inch in one slick push, her walls clenching around me like wet velvet. She bit her lip hard to stifle a moan, eyes fluttering.

"Oh shit... yes. Your cock feels so good stretching your wife's cunt."

We started slow at first, my hips rocking in shallow thrusts so the table wouldn't shake too obviously. Each glide made obscene little wet sounds that the rain mostly covered. Lila's free hand clutched her sketchpad like a prop, pencil scratching nonsense lines while her other hand gripped my shoulder.

"Harder," she breathed, voice cracking. "I want to feel you tomorrow when I sit down to paint."

I picked up the pace, driving deeper, the angle letting me grind against her swollen clit with every stroke. Her tits bounced under the damp blouse, nipples begging for attention. I pinched one through the fabric and she gasped, pussy fluttering around my dick.

"God, yes... just like that. Fuck your slutty little wife in this café. Anyone could walk by and see how full my pussy is."

The risk made everything sharper. I could feel her getting close already—her breaths turning into soft, desperate whimpers, thighs trembling against mine. I reached between us, finding her slick clit and rubbing tight circles while I pounded into her.

Lila's head fell back against the booth, eyes half-lidded in pleasure.

"I'm gonna come... don't stop, please. Fill me when I do. I want your hot cum leaking out of me all the way home."

Her words pushed me over. Her pussy spasmed hard, milking my cock in rhythmic waves as she came with a choked moan she tried to hide behind her hand. I followed right after, burying myself to the hilt and pumping thick ropes of cum deep inside her clenching heat. The wet warmth of it mixed with her juices, dripping down between us onto the seat.

We stayed locked together, panting, my forehead pressed to hers as the rain kept falling outside. Her fingers traced lazy circles on my neck.

"Round two back at the studio?" she whispered, a wicked smile spreading. "I still need to finish that sketch... and maybe ride you properly on the drop cloth this time."